Dream's Flight
by TheTimeCat
Summary: A short story in which boy who's dreams are trying to tell him something.


The sun began to peek up over the land as the new day began. Everyone was still asleep but me. I awoke before the rest for one reason, to get out. I rushed to the courtyard but from what I heard from others, it would be useless to even try. Soon, I reached the one thing blocking me from the outside world, a Douglas Fir wooden door. I tried all I could to open that door; punching, kicking, shaking, and even ramming myself into it. The door broke loose. Once I got outside, my crested caracara wings instantly opened finally feeling free from the confines of this grey house. The ink and alabaster tipped wings fluttered as they seemed to have a mind of their own, but I was overjoyed all the same. I jogged about in the courtyard that was surrounded by somber slate bricks. I soon noticed the sun coming up and sprinted back inside for breakfast. I continued down the hall past some of the other kids that awoke before time was called and turned for the cafeteria. There I sat, where I sat everyday, since the day that I was left at the doorstep. I waited for the inevitable sound of a voice that could shatter glass.

"Wake up young man," a needle like voice pierced my ears as my eyes snapped open, and I was ripped from an all too familiar dream. I realized that I must have dozed off. I huffed as the bell rang. Luckily, my bag was already packed. In my own world, I pulled on my bag as I hustled to Geography. I immediately regretted not wearing my back brace. Sneaking into the class, I quickly took out my materials and tried to snap back to reality. The lesson began, the teacher started to drone on and on about how we should vote, just like every other day. _Boring as always_ I thought, as he continued on. Fortunately, we started the lesson about Russia, we watched a documentary showing us how Russia's past is one of violence. I stilled as my mind decided to space out letting the information from the video flood and infect my imagination. When did my head hit the desk?

A dark frosted forest began to appear in my mind, a whiteout of ice started up as I helped King Kristopher. The war and bloodshed that was coming from his rule started making the people distrust his ways. If I said a single word about this I would either be hung or have my neck slit open in front of a crowd of protesters. I knew that his job was becoming too stressful for him. It was obvious, with his hair turning white. "You're my favorite servant," he said, "and I know you will be a fabulous one for the next ruler." I sighed as the words left his mouth, the Siberian air started to burn my throat and my wings weren't helping me keep warm. I stood silently, ready to take another order from him. "Lock the doors and don't look back," he said gruffly. I nodded curtly heading back inside and shutting the door quietly behind me. I sighed as I locked the door, my shoulder started to be shaken by some invisible force.

Someone or something decided to wake me up. I looked up to the pupil beside me. The person was definitely shorter than me with sun-kissed skin and dark hair. "What do you need," I grumbled, sitting up, and felt the same stabbing pain in my back, where my wings would be. As my eyes cleared, I recognized him as one of the most authoritative and aggressive office aids.

"You fell asleep. You best be getting out of here, you're mom is frantic." I jolted, surprised that the whole hour had passed. I huffed, resting my head back down on the table. "I assume you take a lot of siestas," the other boy mumbled while pushing me out the door.

Soon enough we were outside in the air of January. My mom came darting towards me to roughly grab me in a bear hug. I mumbled an apology and she helped me into the car. Soon we were home and I returned once again to our bleak house. Everything was normal as I entered quietly and I transferred to the couch. The darkness of sleep pulled me down into the dark depths of my inner mind.

My eyes opened to see the king standing before me with a proud smile and I was in a room filled with people. A hand rested on my shoulder, "You have earned your freedom." I stood there, struck silent as he spoke. "Even though you felt like your wings were a disability, you've managed to save our kingdom, remember that you'll never be a burden to anyone." My eyes closed, I was confused by the meaning of his words. "From this day forward you're a free man." The feel of a cold blade replaced the hand and it switched to the other shoulder. "I knight this man before the body of King Christopher, so his spirit may approve of my choice. I dub thee one of our knights." The world faded as I looked at him again.

When I woke up, I was facing my wheelchair, my confines. I stared at the black and silver chair on wheels with nothing but hate, spite, and hurt. I hated that thing since I was paralyzed, since I was limited, since I became the burden I was to my family. A burden is all I would ever be with this problem. I suddenly paused, the words of the king from my dream rang in my ears. I smiled. I knew, in my heart, that I hadn't been fair to those around me. That if anyone wanted to be around me they wouldn't care about the chair. I finally realized everything would be alright.


End file.
